


Marking

by Bloomquist



Series: Billdip Smut Week 2 [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BillDip, Billdip Smut Week, Biting, Blood, Dry Fucking, Fisticuffs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Territory Marking, Urophilia, Violence, anal penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloomquist/pseuds/Bloomquist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper is in a new relationship with an old enemy and Bill doesn’t take too kindly to that fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marking

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for Billdip Smut Week Day 1! Follow me on Tumblr @bloomquistarts for more!

Dipper can’t remember why this happened or why they’re doing this right now, right here.

Something had sparked when Dipper had introduced Gideon, of all people, as his new boyfriend, and his twenty-first birthday party had gone downhill from there between the alcohol, the party games, and the unanimous assent that Gideon was mostly, mostly not the insufferable idiot he once was.

And finally, after glowering for the entire evening, Bill cornered him in the kitchen against the wall and inquired; Dipper had answered honestly.

“You told me you didn’t want to be tied down by some stupid little mortal. Did you expect me to wait or something?”

The response is a hot, heavy, bruising kiss that sends a chill up Dipper’s spine. The answer is yes. Yes, Bill had expected him to wait.

The other answer, the answer Dipper doesn’t provide, is that he didn’t think for a second that Gideon wasn’t the same insufferable idiot – he had used him to prove a point.

Bill nearly crams Dipper against the wall with how hard he presses forward. The possessive glint in his eyes sends a burning jolt through the brunet, and he shoves his hands forward in panicked response, making the demon stumble and fall into the table with a loud crash and broken dishes. 

Neither of them seem to care about the party cleanup anymore, and with Mabel gone, there’s nobody to stop them.

So instead, Dipper is focused on following up with an open-handed smack to Bill’s face. The demon elicits a gasp that is by no means pained. He jumps on Bill to do it again and instead Bill catches hold of his wrist and punches him full on in the cheek with his opposite hand. He laughs. Dipper grunts at the pain and tastes blood when he falls back.

“Don’t think you can win a fight against me, Pine Tree!” he gloats.

Dipper, who was retreating, decides instead to close back in and kick Bill hard in the shin. Bill yanks his legs up and kicks Dipper before he can jump back again, sending him toppling over and giving the demon the leverage to jump atop him instead. He blocks his face with his arms out of sheer instinct before blow after blow crashes against them, and when it becomes too painful, he lowers them, only to receive a hard punch to his eye socket instead.

He’s dazed. Bill knows. He leans in and smirks, kisses him, captures his lips. The attention is sweet and fulfilling and soothes the pains of the new bruises. Dipper can’t help but lean his head back, expose his neck slightly, and kiss back. They stay like that for what feels like a frozen moment in time and Dipper regains his senses at the sweet taste of the cake Bill ate too much of when the demon decides to deepen the kiss and explore his mouth.

Then he bites Bill’s tongue. Hard. 

Blood spills into his mouth. He moans and swallows it. Bill cries out and recoils, Dipper follows and smashes his forehead up into his nose. Bill is the one down again, clearly confused when the brunet jumps on him.

Instead of hitting him again, though, Dipper slams his hands on either side of Bill’s head and hovers over him, panting, looking utterly fucked and incomparably aroused. He knows exactly what he wants to do, but he knows it shouldn’t happen in the kitchen.

Bill yelps as Dipper moves off and grabs him by the ankle in one swift motion to drag him toward the stairs. His fingers scrabble for the sides of the stairwell and he manages to grab the handrail long enough that Dipper’s sweaty grip slips and the demon tumbles back down the stairs head over heels.

Okay, maybe not thought out.

That probably did him more harm than good, he thinks, as his consciousness wanes in and out. He vaguely registers being at the bottom of the stairs. Four steps up. Six steps up. Eleven steps? He reaches half-wittedly for the corner between the stairwell and hallway but only manages to get a splinter under his nail. Bill’s eyes snap open somewhere in the hallway, and he closes them to pretend he’s still unconscious and to gain the upper hand again.

By the time Dipper is done dragging the limp body through the Shack, he’s out of breath. He collapses to sit on his bed with huge, heaving breaths, and he checks Bill briefly before allowing himself to lean back on his hands, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, and close his eyes.

He isn’t relaxed for long enough to catch his breath when Bill jumps upon him again. He falls back under his weight and they bounce on the bed. Dipper’s head catches the wall with a thump that reverberates through the room, his tongue catches between his teeth and sinks in, leaving him even more battered. Before he can recover from it, Bill flips him over on his back and puts his weight down on him, and all of his will to resist flies away and stabs him straight into the gut, pooling into arousal.

Bill is hard – Bill is so hard it practically hurts when he grinds his erection down against the back of Dipper’s jeans. All he does is moan in response and it takes all his will not to jerk his hips back against it.

“Gideon Gleeful,” Bill growls from behind him, “Out of all the fleshbag idiots in this town, Gideon fucking Gleeful.”

Dipper squeaks. “Yeah. Way better lay. His dick is huge,” he taunts, but his tone is flat. It doesn’t seem to matter, because Bill knows what he wants, and it elicits the response he was looking for: Bill goes for the button and zipper of his pants and practically rips them open and down over his hips.

Suddenly Dipper is very exposed and hyperaware. He lowers his hands to Bill’s and begins to try and protest, but Bill grabs him by the hair and slams his face against the wall. The demon leans hard enough that Dipper is terrified his skull is about to burst, and he immediately goes limp to try and communicate his compliance, shutting down. It’s a few moments later that Bill seems satisfied and leans off; Dipper tries to catch his breath.

“I’ll show you a ‘way better lay,’” Bill murmurs with venom.

Dipper can’t suppress a shiver at the promise, especially not when Bill’s hands suddenly return to jerk his pants down around his knees to limit his freedom even further. A hand feels up his thigh to his groin and when Bill grips his half-hard length he bucks into it, wanting nothing more than to be taken.

Bill’s hand works in twists and languid strokes, tightening and loosening. His fingertips trace along sensitive veins just the way Dipper likes it, and soon his thighs are shivering and his cock is leaking. He’s floating, and Bill is gentle and beautiful and he can’t remember why he’d ever leave when they’d had something so good.

A low laugh comes from behind him. “Slut,” Bill grits out, “Bet you’d fuck anyone.”

All Dipper does is whimper again, because right now Bill isn’t far from the truth.

There’s a snarl and Dipper’s face is suddenly in the sheets, planted there by the hand that was previously touching him. He bucks his hips into the bed and Bill’s follow them, slotted against him, and inexplicably naked.

Bill’s hot cock is naked in the crevice of his ass and now Dipper can’t help himself. He arches his back, begging for possession.

Near the door, there’s barely a whisper. Bill’s eye slips deviously to the doorway. It’s still wide open, and in the dark, he can decipher Gideon easily, but Gideon clearly doesn’t notice he’s noticed. He must have stuck around to surprise Dipper, and now they’re surprising him instead.

“Good boy,” the demon breathes, “You don’t want anyone but me, do you?”

Unaware, with his face in the bed covering his mouth and nearly his entire airway, Dipper moans muffled and rolls his hips again to consent.

Bill returns it with a moan of his own and pulls back his hips. He nudges at the opening of Dipper’s ass, expecting protests, but he receives none. He pushes, forces his way inside of Dipper, and a broken sob comes out through the blankets.

It’s hard to take. He’s tight, and the friction burns, and Dipper scrambles his fists into the sheets, but he doesn’t tell Bill to take it out. He takes the splitting pain by focusing on the pleasure of being filled, the burn of tearing with the burn of arousal practically setting his cock on fire. When Bill is finally all the way inside of him, he can barely breathe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bill spots movement. Gideon has gripped the frame hard. His perfectly manicured nails are digging into the wood, and Bill nearly gives a telltale titter. This is fun.

Without waiting for Dipper to adjust, the demon pulls out and slams back in. Dipper screams into the sheets - it’s all pain and no fun. Gideon lurches forward, but suddenly he can't move or speak. He stops uselessly and Bill turns his head slightly to look at him, his eye glowing brightly.

The expression on Gideon’s face is oh so satisfying. Bill turns back to look down at Dipper and pulls out again, all the way.

This time he spits on the place where they were joined and uses his free hand to massage it in around Dipper’s swollen hole. A finger slips in, teasing and small. The damage is already done. The spit and even the little bit of friction generates a burn that is both repulsive and sweet to Dipper. He whines and twitches, tightens around Bill's finger.

When it slides all the way in and hooks in towards Dipper’s prostate to rub, he finally forces his head back up. He's completely red, drooling, and lustful as he begs. “Please, please, Bill, just fuck me, I can't take it, I need you, god, please just…fuck me. Fuck me,” he babbles. 

Bill slips his finger out and rubs the mixture of blood and spit off of it onto the sheets beneath him. His erection lines up again, and this time it's Dipper who pushes back and sheathes himself onto it, letting out a mixture between a groan and a growl that is completely primal.

Then it starts. Bill shoves Dipper’s head down again and fucks him hard, stuffs him to the hilt and against the bed with every rough thrust. Dipper is a gasping mess, writhing as if he's trying to get away while simultaneously rutting downwards for friction, and in this position Bill owns every part of Dipper, from head to toe, and even inside…

An idea strikes him, and Bill stills, earning a wail of disapproval from the body underneath him. “Bill, fuck, fuck you, I'm so close, please-”

The grin that spreads across his face is much darker this time. He digs the nails of his free hand into the flesh of Dipper’s ass and silently threatens to rip them free when he uses them to drag Dipper’s hips back up. 

He's beautiful like this, trying to rub his thighs together on his heavy erection, right on the cusp of orgasm. He's sweaty and filthy and Bill made him this way, not anyone else, and especially not Gideon, the pig faced freak standing in the doorway shooting death glares his way.

The demon pulls out halfway, and Dipper resorts to whimpering and sobbing instead. It takes every ounce of Bill’s concentration not to break and comply, to send Dipper over the edge simply by fucking it out of him, but that's not Bill’s aim.

He puts the hand on his protruding cock and furrows his brow. Dipper gasps at the unfamiliar sensation of something filling him up, something that stings. There is so much of whatever it was that his insides are on fire with the uncomfortable stretch, the uncomfortable feeling of being filled with hot liquid.

It stays when Bill withdraws the rest of the way. Dipper gives a little shudder and moans. His hips fall and it moves inside of him, stinging every little tear and burning up his insides. He doesn't know what it is - Bill’s never cum that much before, and he didn't even seem like he was about to. Questions crop up in his mind, but none of them are coherent.

Bill allows Gideon movement, and the first thing he does is flicks on the light, catching them in the act. Dipper gasps and shoots upright at the flooding of illumination. He squints in the direction of the door until his eyes adjust, and then he cries out, scrambling to try and cover himself with the sheets.

Bill only sneers at the display and grabs Dipper by the hair to drag him upright. His other hand grabs hold of the brunet’s still hard cock and offers him rough strokes. Within seconds he's babbling again.

“You can't, I can't, fuck, Gideon is r-right there-”

His pleas fall silent at the sudden feeling of liquid shifting. He whimpers as it runs out and down the inside of his thighs, all over his legs and onto the bed, and that's when the smell hits him.

The scent of urine permeating the room is unmistakable, and Dipper wails again at the realization. He tries to clench down, but his muscles won't and can't listen to him after the rough fucking. It continues to gush out of him, and with a stilling sense of horror, Bill’s hand finally brings him to the edge and he crashes over, cumming hard into his stomach and into his hand, screaming his name.

There's a moment of dead air when all there is is the sound of Dipper’s panting. Bill releases him and he collapses into the mess on the bed: blood, piss, drool, and cum all mingle on his skin.

Bill shares a smug look with Gideon, and the man spits on the floor. “It’s over, Pines!” he drawls in an enraged tone. The sounds of footsteps stomping out through the shack and the slam of the door are practically music to Bill’s ears.

When that seems to be done, Bill leans down over Dipper and lifts a leg. There's no protest this time, just a broken, tired whimper. The demon hums pleasantly and pushes inside Dipper again, careful to avoid the oversensitive spots, but still the brunet shivers and squirms. 

The way Bill thrusts languidly into Dipper this time is all for his own pleasure. He's soft and pliant and smooth inside, and Bill cherishes every inch as he pushes in, grinds, and pulls out, staring at the place they're connected. After a couple minutes he comes deep inside Dipper's ass, gasping once and shuddering at the release.

And as he does Bill promises that Dipper Pines belongs to him, and nobody else will ever have him ever again.


End file.
